Page 16 of Snowed In with the Rancher

“Physically? No. Mentally? Also no.” She grabbed a sandwich half and dunked it into the soup.

Asher snorted a laugh. “She’s a meddler, that one.”

Even if the soup wasn’t lukewarm, but scalding hot, it would be no match for how Triss’s cheeks felt. She could probably fry an egg on them.

Did Asher notice? She usually went bright pink when she blushed and if the heat in her cheeks was any indication, was probably as pink as a stick of bubble gum right now.

“Don’t do anything like that again,” he said after several long moments of silence passed between them as they ate lunch.

“Do what? Answer the phone? Walk out of the room while on the phone?”

His glare was impatient and bordering on rude. “Get in the corral with a horse like that. It was dangerous, reckless, stupid and you could have gotten hurt.”

She rolled her eyes. “But I didn’t. Mercy just needed a bit of patience and I gave him that.”

“Suddenly you’re the fucking horse whisperer?”

“No, suddenly, I’m a new person at this ranch who he doesn’t know and who has the patience he deserves and wants. I’m not trying to usurp you as top dog or any of that shit. I know this situation is weird. You don’t know me, I don’t know you, but I’m trying to make the best of a bizarre situation. I offered to help and I meant that. I don’t just sit on my ass while others work. That’s never been my style.” She finished the first half of her sandwich and grabbed the second, dunking it once again in the soup.

“Mercy is unpredictable,” he said. “Don’t get in the corral with him again.”

With her free hand, she saluted him. “Sir, yes, sir.”

The thundercloud over his head quadrupled in size and lightning practically cracked overhead.

Well, now he felt how she felt when she woke up this morning. The difference was, she was trying her damndest to get out of her foul mood, doing whatever she could to distract herself, whereas he seemed content with the storm over his head.

The only time he’d been even remotely pleasant was when they were outside with the horses. He’d actually conversed with her, strung more than six words together and he’d smiled. And when that man smiled—holy shit.

His soup bowl was empty, his sandwiches gone. He hadn’t touched the apple slices, but stood up anyway and took his dishes to the dishwasher. “I can handle the rest of the day myself,” he said, leaving zero room for negotiation.

“Am I being punished for trying to help?” She didn’t bother to stand up, but rather sat there eating her lunch, waiting for the beefy rancher to either answer her or have an aneurysm. Based on his expression, he really could go either way.

“If I was punishing you, Triss, you’d know,” he replied, his voice dark and causing warm tendrils of desire to spin through her. The glint of something wicked and wild sparkled in his midnight-blue eyes, but it was gone a second later.

She swallowed and licked her lips. “I’m sorry. I won’t do anything reckless like that again.”

His brow lifted, then his shoulders slumped as he sighed. “I’m riding the fence to look for holes, you can come if you want.” Showing her his back, he put his dishes in the dishwasher and began to fill the sink with water in order to scrub the pan and pot.

Triss bounced a little in her seat as she took another bite of her sandwich. She had no idea what “riding the fence” meant, but she was excited to do it anyway.

Because if she stayed cooped up in this house with nothing to distract her, it would be her lonely broken heart that would inevitably try to keep her company, and she still had that itchy finger that wanted to send mean, immature texts to Lorne.

Riding the fence looking for holes was exactly what it sounded like it was. They rode their horses in the snow along the fence line looking for holes. Then, if they could, they patched up the holes.

Asher rode his horse Dare, while he put Triss on Hula-Hoop. She couldn’t say that it was exactly like riding a bike—a skill which you’re never supposed to forget once you’ve learned how to do it—but she wasn’t as much of a beginner as she expected herself to be, either. A lot of what she’d learned at ranch camp nearly two decades ago did come back to her, and even though she knew her ass and thighs would be sore tomorrow, she wasn’t struggling to ride, either. She bounced with the horse, used her legs, and within ten minutes she and Hula-Hoop were riding merrily behind Asher and Dare down the fence line.

The snow was still falling, but the flakes were quite a bit smaller and less dense. The wind, however, had picked up and was hitting them all right in the face so that it felt like they were being bombarded with ice pellets as they went.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Triss said, bending forward and petty Hula-Hoop’s neck. “I’ll give you extra carrots and snuggles when we get back to the barn. I know this can’t be fun for you, either.”

“Could have stayed inside,” Asher said, climbing back up onto Dare after having repaired a part of the fence.

“Then I wouldn’t be helping,” she replied. Then I’d be stuck with my broken heart and itchy texting finger.

“Place needs a vacuum.”

“No, it doesn’t. That house is spotless and sparse. Even the windows are smudge-free.”

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